On our thirtieth wedding anniversary we were in the middle of a cross-country move. We didn’t have a home yet, so we were staying with my mom. We had been spending our days looking for a place to live, and on our anniversary we wanted some time off from the moving melee. But, what could we do that was romantic? I mean, thirty years, THIRTY YEARS! I was proud of us making it that far. I wanted to mark the day.
Then the forecast changed. No rain, but cold. Yes, on June 1st, it was supposed to be 55 degrees in Chicago. People told us it would be even colder on Lake Michigan. We’d better bundle up. The talk of chill dampened our spirits. Most of our winter clothes were packed in storage until we found a place to live. Just coming from Florida, would our blood be too thin for such a change? We thought perhaps we should heed the warnings of others.
So, we didn’t book it …
… until midnight on June 1st/May 31st. We decided to throw cold-caution to the wind.
We found some warmer clothes to wear and headed from our suburban dwelling to downtown Chicago. It felt like we were on vacation.
We boarded the boat an hour before it sailed. On the top deck, I really wasn’t that cold. But, “just wait,” my husband said, “once we’re out on the water it’ll be frigid.”
For me, it was glorious.
It was surreal.
I lived near this city for twenty-five years, then went away for twenty-seven and thought I’d never be settled here again. Boy, this place has it’s faults. Big time faults, but somehow it dug a pit inside my heart and stayed there. Tears welled in my eyes.
Yes, I live here now!
The cruise was just lovely. I was not cold. The food was average and nothing to write about, but the atmosphere made it all worthwhile. They even had a dance floor for that added romantic touch we’d been looking for.